A trick or two up a Russian's sleeve
by MLaw
Summary: It's time for April Dancer's annual Halloween party. pre-saga


It was that time of year, April Dancer's dreaded Halloween party. Unless any or all of UNCLE's finest were galavanting across the globe on assignment, which never seemed to be the case; it was mandatory attendance to the costumed soiree. If you turned down April, she had a way of making sure you suffer for weeks to come after the fact.

She said it was the only thing that helped life seem normal, taking us back to a more innocent time when children did their trick or treat routine with glee.

Dressed as monsters and ragamuffins in the hopes of getting bags full of candy and fruit, in spite of the fact they might have to perform a little trick to earn their rewards; the persevere regardless of the quality of their costumes for their ultimate rewards to please their sweet tooths.

Some people were near heartless in that respect, requiring some form of entertainment from the children. Kids learned which of their neighbors demanded such payment, and came prepared, or they simply passed and moved on to another house.

That was April's childhood memories, but unlike her friends who hated doing tricks for their treats she enjoyed the challenge. No passes were allowed with her party.

That, perhaps, was the one thing that Illya Kuryakin dreaded most about attending these gatherings. Illya's simplistic approach to his costume was a given now that April's parties had become tradition, but it was his lack of desire to perform like a trained animal, doing a so-called 'trick' in front of his co-workers that irked him the most.

Considering he was a master of said disguises, that came as a surprise to his partner who took delight in 'dressing up', but given Solo's penchant for clothing, that was really no surprise.

Another surprise since Illya could perform with the best of them...his exotic role in 'A man is a horn' during the 'Off Broadway Affair', or completely changing his appearance to a Chinese warlord.

The list could go on but his attitude was that he would do as he must on an assignment, but his personal life was his own. That was that. Period.

Still, April persisted, year after year sending out her invitations, and Napoleon would egg his partner on to attend. Her threats of retaliation meant little to the Russian, as he could do a bit of that himself if she tried. In his case, he doubted April would as she was a pretty smart lady, smart enough to not to try anything on him.

.

And here Illya stood next to his partner outside of Dancer's apartment door and was, for a change, Solo was not wearing his Napoleon Bonaparte costume.

Instead he was attired in a black morning coat, tan waistcoat, charcoal grey pants, with a top hat and a pair of spats to complete the ensemble. A simple grey mask covered his eyes, though it was easy to see who he was.

"What are you supposed to be?" Kuryakin asked.

"A proper English gentleman," Napoleon looked down his nose, making a face at his partner who was dressed in his customary black suit and turtleneck. "And I see you're not wearing a costume this year. Not going to go over well with the hostess."

"Do not worry your little aristocratic head. I have a suitable costume."

"And…"

"You will see. Now go make your grand entrance so the ladies can all swoon over you. I will be in shortly."

"Suit yourself."

Napoleon rang the doorbell, as his partner disappeared down the hall. He shrugged, half-wondering what Illya was up to….he was always up to something.

As predicted the ladies, mostly from the secretarial pool, swarmed around him, to his delight of course.

April had outdone herself decorating for the occasion as the there were cobwebs, candles and skeletons everywhere...no doubt borrowed from the Medical section.

As the evening progress there was no sign of Illya, through April seemed to not notice as she was being a busy hostess.

The record player was blasting away with appropriate music, in this case, "The Monster Mash," as everyone began to dance the boogaloo.

Suddenly there was a scream, and a man came from the fire escape, diving through an open window. There was a split second that some of the Section II agents thought about drawing their weapons. That thought was dismissed when they saw he was wearing a ferocious-looking red, hairy werewolf mask and matching clawed hands. He was wearing a red and black checkered shirt and a worn pair of dungarees.

He proceeded to chase a few of the girls around the room, who giggled at the prospect of being caught.

"Nice trick Illya!" Solo called.

"That's Illya?" April asked. "I was beginning to wonder where he was."

"I am right here, in costume," the Russian announced from behind her. He was still wearing his black suit and turtleneck, as well as a simple black face mask, which he pointed to as he identified himself.

"What are you...a cat burglar, _again?_ " Napoleon snidely asked.

"Yes."

"How original, only the hundredth time since you've worn that as a costume."

"It works for me," the Russian smiled.

"I thought you were that guy dressed as the werewolf."

"What guy?"

"That guy," Napoleon pointed to the fellow. He turned to Illya but found he was gone and watched in astonishment as the man wearing the wolf mask across the room lifted it to reveal none other than Illya Kuryakin.

"Wha...how?"

Illya grinned at him, making an announcement.

"Well I have shown up in a costume and performed a trick so now _**I am getting the hell out of here**_ , if you do not mind. I have done my due diligence. April it was a lovely party, now if you will excuse me."

He put his wolf mask back on and strolled out the apartment door, disappearing into the night; leaving his partner, April and the other guests standing there with their mouths hanging open.

The record player ejected to a new album as if on cue… a song appropriately called 'The Werewolf' by the Frantics.


End file.
